Love is not finite

I do not need to dole it out

Like a ration in limited supply

It does not need to be shared

I do not need to be fought over

More and more can I produce from my heart

But as I'm tugged on like a rope- back and forth, told these same lies over and over

Why would I want to produce more- ever

But I do,

For their sake

Their smile, my gifts

Maybe true love requires a ration, a limited supply

And maybe I was born with none at all

When my soul came down from heaven and placed in my body, had I not been distributed any to share?

I share my ears, my eyes, my voice, my mind

So I produce “love”

For them,

For the others as well (more and more line up. how many genuine?)

Love, here, can be ears, eyes, voice, mind

Combine and combine it looks like the sickly pink substance many ooze out (in hallways, under night skys, over a candle lit dinner)

To me, if it quacks like a duck it is a duck

So I use that instead

Maybe love really was finite, all wasted on those feelings I wanted to leave unhurt

Maybe love really was finite, but at least this is close enough